


chore negotiation

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Blow Jobs, Domestic smut, Especially Simon Snow, M/M, No One Wants to Wash Dishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: It started as a joke.Well, mostly a joke. I hate doing the washing up after dinner; the only thing worse than the Humdrum is a sink full of dirty dishes. Every moment I spent in front of the sink felt like a special kind of torture. (Maybe that’s an exaggeration.) (But not much of one.)
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 175
Collections: Carry On Fall Exchange 2020





	chore negotiation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jyoti96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jyoti96/gifts).



> Happy Halloween!! 
> 
> I feel like I just barely managed to eek this one out by the end of the exchange posting period buuuuttt I did. 
> 
> So here is some nice domestic smut for you, friend, I hope you enjoy it.

**SIMON**

It started as a joke.

Well, mostly a joke. I hate doing the washing up after dinner; the only thing worse than the Humdrum is a sink full of dirty dishes. Every moment I spent in front of the sink felt like a special kind of torture. (Maybe that’s an exaggeration.) (But not much of one.)

“Your turn to wash,” Baz practically sang, stacking his plate on top of mine and pushing them both toward me on the table.

“But I cooked.” I frowned, staring at the offending plates as if I could simply zap them out of existence.

“And I’ve washed them every night this week.”

“ _Baz_ ,” I sigh. “You’re a mage, can’t you just…” I waved my hand around the air above them, shrugging and looking up at him.

“That’s a waste of magic, Snow, and you know it. You’re perfectly capable of scrubbing a dish.”

“What if I do them tomorrow?”

“That’s what you’ve been saying all week.” Baz stood, giving the plates one final shove toward me. “Your turn.”

I dropped my head on the table in defeat, willing myself to get up and just get it over with. And that’s when I said it.

“What if I suck you off?”

I glanced up to see Baz watching me, that damned brow of his raised and his arms crossed.

“Pardon?”

“You do the dishes and I’ll suck you off, that’s a fair trade, yeah?”

It was a joke. I figured he’d say no, maybe laugh at me, and return to whatever he was doing before dinner. (Probably reading.)

Instead, he took the dishes from the table and made his way into the kitchen. I heard the water turn on, and when I followed I found him finishing up the washing of the last plate. (It really would have been so easy.)

He turned the water off and dried his hands on a dish towel, looking at me across the kitchen and tilting his head to beckon me over. “There, Snow. Time to fulfill your end of the bargain.”

And that’s how I got out of doing the washing for the next month. It’s not _every_ time he does it, just the times he asks me to do it and I retaliate with the same offer. Though, he’s started asking more. And at this rate, it’s almost become a habit. Baz does the dishes, and I suck him off right after. Sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes on the couch, and sometimes we actually make it to our room. (Usually only when Penny’s home.)

“Your turn, Snow.” Baz says after we’ve finished dinner. We’re sat on the couch and neither of us seems eager to get up. Especially not me.

“Or,” I start, “I could blow you again.”

Baz sighs, as if he didn’t see this coming and wasn’t hoping I’d suggest it again. I can tell he was.

“Fine then.” He stands and takes my bowl from me, stacking it with his own then reaching for my hand. “C’mon.”

“What?”

“I’ve got coursework to do, if you’re going to exchange your chores for sexual favors, let’s knock them out at once so I don’t fall behind.”

I let him pull me up and follow him with wide eyes. “You… you want me to blow you _while_ you wash up?”

“That’s what I said. Might make it a more enjoyable experience.”

And that’s how I’ve found myself sitting on the floor of our kitchen, my back pressed against the cabinets with Baz’s legs spread on either side of me. He’s already turned on the water, which unfortunately covers my own pleased sound as I pull him out of his flies. It’s always lovely to see, his pretty cock already half hard for me. I stroke him a few times, mesmerized by his growing arousal. Until his voice cuts in, sharp.

“Thought the offer was a mouth, Snow, not a ha—” He cuts himself off sharply when I lean in and lick over his slit, wrap my lips around his head and suck gently before pulling back off.

“Sorry, love, did you have a complaint?”

“None at all.”

I smile a bit, even though he can’t see, then take him back into my mouth. I never really thought I’d find myself sucking a bloke off while he does the washing, but there’s something oddly domestic about it. There’s also something satisfying about the clatter above me as I sink down his length until I feel him against the back of my throat.

“ _Fuck_ , Simon.”

He swears as I swallow around him, dipping my head and trying to take him even _deeper_. My eyes sting and I’m breathing hard through my nose, trying not to _gag_ , and honestly this _can’t_ be sexy. Good thing Baz is distracted at the moment, although… by the sound of it, he’s not doing much washing up there.

I lean back enough to tilt my head up, see his knuckles nearly turning white where he’s gripping the edge of the sink. They relax a bit when I pull off of him entirely, using my hand to work him as I grin up at him.

“Think that’s the furthest I’ve gone.”

I hear him snort, and then his hand is ruffling my curls as he looks down at me. “Think you can manage again?”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Absolutely not, hope you enjoyed that.”

Baz tugs at my curls gently, _affectionately_ , and starts washing again as I return my focus to his cock. I wonder if I can get him off before he’s finished. Not that I necessarily want this to be over, but sometimes it’s fun just to see how quickly I can get him worked up.

“How much have you got left?” I ask, raising my voice to be heard over the running water.

“Have you got other things to do?” He glances down at me. I can’t quite see his face but I know he’s raising that bloody eyebrow of his.

I shrug. “Just thought it’d be fun to see who could finish first.” I laugh to myself.

He doesn’t have to accept, but I know he will. Baz doesn’t back down from a challenge, even the most ridiculous ones.

I take him into my mouth again, his length warm and heavy on my tongue. The water’s too loud to hear much as I bob my head and work over him, but eventually his breath catches and his legs are tense on either side of me.

“Oh, _Crowley_ ,” his words shake out of his throat as I run my hands down either leg, squeezing gently along his calves and then the backs of his thighs. He _moans_ when I reach his arse, taking a cheek in each hand and _pressing_ him closer to my face.

I can tell he’s close by the sharp, breathy groans rolling out of him and the jerky thrust of his hips into me.

I hollow my cheeks and pull all the way back, until I’m focusing on just the head, and he’s dropped one wet hand down into my hair. He’s gripping my curls so hard it almost hurts, but then he’s coming down my throat and the first thing I can think of is _‘I’ve certainly won, then.’_

And that’s how we find ourselves abandoning the washing up entirely and spending the remainder of the night competing to see who can make the other come fastest.

Baz eventually does win, once we have to call it due to oversensitivity and sheer exhaustion. It’s maybe the one time I’m not upset to lose to him.

Unfortunately, the loser did have to do the washing for the rest of the week. (I’m sure I can find my way out of that, though.)


End file.
